


Patience is a Virtue

by VelkynKarma



Series: Parallel by Proxy [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Kuron (Voltron)-centric, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelkynKarma/pseuds/VelkynKarma
Summary: Shortly after the attack on Olkarion, team Voltron gets a new roommate. The problem? He's a roommate nobody wants, and it seems Ryou's the only one who can get rid of him—more's the pity.





	Patience is a Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tumblr prompt from WAY back in April, but I've only just gotten back into the writing groove enough to give it a shot. Then it got so big I didn't want to deal with it on tumblr, sooo here it is! (I really just can't resist when Slav is involved).

“You can’t stay here. It’s really not as safe as you think—“  
  
“I’ve run the numbers. It’s the absolute safest place to be, ninety-five point two percent of the time!”  
  
Ryou freezes in mid step at the voices coming from the main foyer of the Castle of Lions. That second voice is unmistakably Slav, and some still ingrained instinct of Shiro’s makes him want to immediately turn around and go the other way before he’s spotted. The only reason he doesn’t is because the other speaker is Shiro himself, and he already sounds like he’s at his limit.   
  
“We go on missions _all the time,_ Slav. Every time the Castle of Lions leaves Olkarion there’s a chance it won’t come back because of a space battle. Is that really safer?”  
  
“I have already survived a dangerous battle that statistically had a high percent chance of ending in my death. This is a very efficient vehicle! I suspect it emits inverted frequencies that counteract the space-time temporal fissures, which reduces the mathematical probabilities for realities in which I die. Including this one, of course. That more than makes up for the inefficiencies of zip-lines while possessing hover technology.”  
  
 _“Slav,”_ Shiro hisses—Ryou can’t actually see in the room, but he can still all but _feel_ Shiro’s eye twitching—“We _can’t_ spend time being your bodyguards. We have the Galra to fight and the coalition to lead.”   
  
“But in eighty-five point six percent of all realities, if I remain on Olkarion, I’ll _die!_ My chances rise significantly if I remain on this Altean ship in the proximity of all of the Voltron paladins!”  
  
Ryou’s not sure if it’s the instincts and mind he inherited from Shiro, or the more recently developed shared sense the Black Lion gives them in times of crisis, but he’s absolutely positive Shiro’s about five ticks from blowing a gasket. A rescue is probably in order…though whether it’s rescuing Shiro from Slav, or Slav from Shiro, he’s not actually sure.   
  
He jogs hastily down the rest of the hallway and strides out into the wide entrance hall, affecting ignorance as he says, “Hey, I heard voices. Something wrong?”  
  
As he’d guessed, Shiro’s eye is indeed twitching, and his expression is one of barely contained irritation. The mask is starting to slip—Ryou had only just barely made it in time. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, with very deliberate, forced patience. “Slav was just about to leave.”  
  
Ryou doesn’t think Slav is even capable of catching social cues, so it doesn’t surprise him in the least when the engineer immediately argues. “No, I wasn’t! If I left I could die! There is a very high probability that I _will.”_   
  
Slav actually does look quite distressed—more so than usual, anyway. Most of his hands are still tucked away in that Galra prison uniform that he’s _still_ wearing, for some reason. But his topmost hands are curled in anxious fists close to his face, and his long body is huddled in a more defensive posture that makes him look smaller than he really is.   
  
That doesn’t say a lot, of course, since Slav can become highly distressed by almost anything. Still, Ryou almost feels sorry for him. Then again, he’s a little more flexible in dealing with Slav, considering Slav has a great deal to do with him still existing to this day. If not for Slav’s genius, and the medication he’d designed for Ryou to take, Ryou would have quite literally fallen apart months ago from clone degeneration as his body gave out.   
  
Of course, that flexibility has mostly been in Ryou’s head, up to this point. He hasn’t ever really had to deal with Slav directly since being himself.   
  
_For now, just diffuse the situation,_ Ryou decides. Shiro’s frustration and Slav’s distress are typically a bad combination, which he remembers from personal experience. “I’m late to the party,” Ryou says, as he steps up next to Shiro. “Somebody want to explain what’s going on?”   
  
Slav looks absolutely ready to launch into a long, and most likely probability-filled explanation, but freezes as he finally identifies Ryou. With a yelp of surprise, he scuttles backwards, glancing back and forth between both Shiro and Ryou. “Why are you so close together?” he hisses in alarm.  
  
“Um,” Ryou says, for lack of any better response. After a moment, he adds intelligently, “What?”  
  
A glance at Shiro is no help; his predecessor seems to know exactly what’s going on, and is clearly seizing his chance. “He’s going to be next to me a lot,” Shiro says. “On this ship. All the time. There’s going to be a lot of asymmetry. You’re probably better off on Olkarion, Slav.”   
  
“You could stay apart,” Slav counters, from the edge of the room. “It would be far safer!”  
  
“Not an option,” Shiro says, and he slides to the left enough that he ends up pressing shoulder to shoulder with Ryou. Ryou gives him a bewildered look, but doesn’t move. “He’s a valuable member of the team and absolutely essential for day to day Voltron tasks. He’s a paladin, too. If you want to be around paladins, you’re going to be around both of us, at the same time.”   
  
Slav does not look happy about this. Ryou is all the more confused. “Does somebody want to tell me what is going on right now? Why is me being near Shiro an issue?”  
  
Shiro shoots him an exasperated look. Ryou realizes his mistake two ticks before Slav launches into an explanation.    
  
“The proximity of two highly asymmetrical individuals that are _supposed_ to be identical is very dangerous!” Slav says, waving his topmost hands in the air. “You are already asymmetrical with only one robot arm, which increases the mathematical probability for dangerous scenarios to occur in realities immediately around you. When you _both_ initiate fluctuations in realities that begin to form space-time temporal fissures simultaneously within proximity, the probabilities for highly unexpected and extremely dangerous situations are compounded and increase significantly!”   
  
“So we’re both bad luck,” Ryou tries to translate, “But when you put us together we’re worse bad luck.”   
  
_“Luck_ has nothing to do with it,” Slav says. “It’s _mathematical probability.”_   
  
“Math or luck, it doesn’t matter,” Shiro says. “Ryou will be sticking around, and near me a lot, because he’s a paladin and that’s our job. Sorry, Slav, looks like you’ll need to go back planet-side.”   
  
He doesn’t sound particularly sorry, as far as Ryou can tell. He also appears to be doing his best to inch to the side enough that Ryou is between him and Slav. Coward.  
  
Slav dithers on the edge of the room for a moment, worrying his topmost pair of hands. Finally, he says, “The Castle of Lions is extremely large. There is a seventy-three point four percent chance the dangerous anomalies caused by your multiple asymmetries will not span across the entirety of the ship. I will stay in one of the rooms outside of the calculated range of the danger area.”   
  
Shiro appears incredulous for a moment, but then his eye twitches again. “We don’t stay in one place, you know. We move.”  
  
“I will calculate for your movements around the ship in relation to your most common preferred locations. The data should be simple to determine based on logs from the ship.”   
  
“Why exactly does Slav want to stay on the Castle of Lions so bad?” Ryou asks. The engineer is being quite stubborn about this, but Ryou still feels like he’s in the dark.   
  
“My lab was destroyed in the attack,” Slav says, shuddering. “It was completely over-run by those Galra virus plants. All of my work was destroyed! It’s not safe anymore!”  
  
Ryou winces in sympathy at that. The attack on Olkarion had been a few quintents ago. Ryou had only just gotten his new arm attached yesterday. Olkarion is still dealing with a great deal of cleanup, and while the Olkari can build structures quite fast with their ability to manipulate plant material and metal, it still doesn’t mean the entire city is fixed yet. There’s still a lot of people without stable homes and a lot more refugees than there had been prior to the attack.  
  
Shiro seems less sympathetic. “Ryner provided you with living quarters as soon as they dug you out of the lab,” he says, crossing his arms. “It’s only temporary, but even so, it’s larger than most other refugees have, and the location is safe and secure.”   
  
“It’s not safe _enough,”_ Slav says. “There is an eight-five point six chance I’ll die if I remain there! That’s not safe! It wasn’t safe the _first_ time, or my lab would still be standing, and my lab is safer than those other places!”   
  
“Ryner _can’t_ spare resources to rebuild your lab until the refugees are taken care of, Slav,” Shiro snaps, with increasing frustration. “They need safe homes at all before they can build more complex structures for you. _Everyone_ in the city is uncomfortable right now. You’re just going to have to live with it until then.”   
  
“But I’ll be in _danger!”_ Slav yelps. “I’ll—“  
  
“Okay, time out,” Ryou interjects, holding up both hands. Both Slav and Shiro stare at him in surprise. “You,” Ryou says, pointing at Slav, “wait there. We’ll be back in a second.” And then he turns, fastens his metal fingers around Shiro’s normal wrist—just to ensure there’s no way he’s escaping—and drags him off to the other side of the room.  
  
“I really don’t have time for this,” Shiro grumbles. “Clean-up efforts are enough of a mess as it is, and now Slav?”  
  
“So let him stay,” Ryou says.  
  
Shiro stares at him, like he’s grown a second head. “Are you serious?”  
  
“Look,” Ryou says, as reasonably as he can, “You know he’s going to get his way eventually. He’ll camp out right here if he has to. You can save time arguing and give him an out of the way room. Or you can waste an extra varga or two trying to come up with excuses and getting more and more frustrated, only to eventually snap at him, and he’ll _still_ be here—just cowering more than usual. Which, a varga or two after that, will make you feel guilty. Save yourself some trouble and buy yourself a little control over the situation in the process.”  
  
Shiro is still staring. “I can’t believe you’re siding with _Slav_ over _me,”_ Shiro complains. “Me! We have the same brain! You put up with all the crap he did too.”   
  
“Which is how I know you’re not going to win this one,” Ryou says. “Unless I’m mis-remembering you _turning off gravity_ just to get him over some cracks, because you couldn’t convince or force him to in any other way.”  
  
Shiro grumbles.  
  
“Besides,” Ryou says, voice softening. “I feel sorry for him. It’s hard to feel safe after that attack; I should know. And he _did_ save my life where nobody else was capable. I owe him one, even if you’ve paid your debts.”  
  
The guilt-trip angle does the trick. Shiro groans, but finally says, “Fine. Fine! We’ll let him stay until his lab is rebuilt. But if I lose my mind because he’s here, you’re officially honor-bound to take over for me.”   
  
“Fair enough,” Ryou agrees, “Seeing as I’m so good at it already.”   
  
Shiro gives him a look, but then heads—grudgingly—over to Slav by himself, safely away from any mostly-identical clones, to give him the good news.   
  
So it is that they have Slav as a roommate for the next spicolian movement.   
  
Ryou is told, by multiple members of the crew, that Slav is an incredible annoyance to everyone involved—messing around with the Castle settings or special projects, complaining about the food, and seeing death and destruction around virtually every corner. Ryou’s told that, but he never actually sees any of it himself, seeing as he gains a new shadow for the duration of Slav’s stay: Shiro.   
  
Shiro sticks to Ryou like glue for pretty much everything except nights, when he can retreat to his own room and lock his door. Ryou is not unfamiliar with the practice—Shiro had shadowed him often when he’d first been recovering from his illness—except this time it has nothing at all to do with keeping an eye on Ryou. Every time Slav happens to get close enough to spot the two of them together, he immediately leaves the area, which means as long as Shiro hangs around Ryou, he’s safe.   
  
It also means Ryou’s sick to death of him after just a couple of quintents. “Can you find somebody else’s shoulder to hover over?” he asks in exasperation, as he chops vegetables for lunch.   
  
“You’re the only one who makes my space-time temporal fissures even worse than usual,” Shiro says, as he studies Galra troop movements at the counter.  
  
“Yeah, well you make mine worse, too,” Ryou complains. “Stop giving me extra bad luck.”  
  
“You know that’s a load of garbage.”  
  
“Oh yeah? What about that one time I almost died when you were nearby?” Ryou counters, gesturing at him with his knife. “Or that other time I almost died when you were nearby?”  
  
“I almost died near you too, a couple times,” Shiro says. “This isn’t all on me. Anyway, every time you’ve almost died I’ve saved you from it, so it evens out.”   
  
Ryou rolls his eyes and goes back to chopping. “I can’t wait until Slav’s out of here. He hasn’t been at all clingy, but I’ve got this other shadow that just won’t leave me alone. One wonders who the clone here actually is.”   
  
Shiro gives him a dirty look through his holographic reports. _“You’re_ the one who insisted on him staying to begin with,” he points out. “This wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t pushed for it.”  
  
“It would be, and you know it,” Ryou says. “And when I suggested this, I didn’t think you’d be sticking this close to me.”   
  
“It’s the only place that’s safe,” Shiro grumbles. “I need to at least try to retain my sanity.”  
  
“At my sanity’s expense?”  
  
“I’m not as bad as Slav.”   
  
“You’re literally insisting on staying within range of me for protection. If that’s not doing exactly what he is, I don’t know how else you’d describe it,” Ryou points out dryly.   
  
Shiro chooses to ignore that, and instead says, “Just a few more quintents, and he’ll be out of our hair. Ryner said the cleanup on his lab has started now.”   
  
That estimation isn’t wrong, at least. About a spicolian movement and a half after Slav moves himself in, Ryner finally announces that his lab has been re-built, to all the original specifications. She had a special team work round the clock for two quintents solid, until Slav’s lab was in prime condition—both to keep him safe, and to keep him safely out of the way so he isn’t underfoot for everyone else.  
  
The problem: Slav has no interest in returning to it.  
  
“It’s _dangerous,”_ Slav insists. “I nearly died last time!”   
  
“It’s been completely rebuilt, down to the exact requirements from the last time, when we moved you to that location,” Shiro says, through grit teeth. Ryou watches the encounter from the opposite side of the room, alongside most of the rest of the crew. Nobody else had been willing to attempt giving Slav the news, so Shiro had gotten stuck with the task. But everyone had been morbidly curious how the entire mess would turn out, which is why they’re all hovering on the sidelines.  
  
“But _that_ wasn’t safe!” Slav says, anxious. “It collapsed! It had inefficient defense systems against the Olkari weaponry! I was trapped for _vargas_ surrounded by cracks!”   
  
That actually does sound pretty terrible, if Ryou is really honest with himself. Even if Slav is probably exaggerating to some degree, there had been enough accounts of people trapped in the rubble for hours until the vinespeakers could extricate them. He knows from very recent personal experience that it’s awful, and for Slav, it must have been a nightmare. No wonder he’s been a ball of nerves since he got here.  
  
“I promise it’s safe,” Shiro says. Ryou can tell he’s trying his hardest to sound reassuring, but he’s already so irritated it’s coming out through a barely restrained grimace. “Ryner and the other Olkari have been taking every precaution to make sure something like that attack can’t happen again. You will be _fine,_ in this reality and every other one, got it?”  
  
“But there is a seventy-seven point one percent chance it won’t be—“  
  
“Then I’ll give you some blankets to adjust so you can reduce the odds—“  
  
 _“Blankets_ won’t adjust the percentages correctly! You must—“  
  
“Hey,” Lance mutters under his breath, sidling closer to Ryou. “Uh, how close is Shiro to cracking?” The others lean closer as well, glancing back and forth between Ryou and Shiro with horrified fascination.   
  
“Pretty close,” Ryou admits. Then, raising his hand to his mouth, he calls louder, “Hey! Shiro! Tap out!”   
  
Shiro glances up; Ryou notes his eye is twitching again. Ryou gestures for him to come over to the team, and Shiro wastes no time doing so. Slav hovers back on the other side of the room, still not interested in getting near the Shiroganes in proximity, but he isn’t left on his own for long. Ryou pats Shiro on the shoulder as he passes, and says, “I’ll handle this.”   
  
“What makes you think you can do any better?” Shiro asks.   
  
“We’re not the same person anymore,” Ryou says. “And I’ve got a different angle to try. Besides, you need a break from him, and I need a break from _you,_ so this might do the trick.”   
  
Shiro grumbles under his breath, but then says, “Be my guest. You’re welcome to try.”   
  
_And probably fail,_ Shiro doesn’t voice, but he doesn’t have to; Ryou knows his mind pretty well.   
  
Still, while Ryou understands his doubts, he doesn’t intend to fail. And he hadn’t been talking himself up when he said he has a different angle.   
  
Because, crazy as it is, Ryou actually _gets_ where Slav is coming from. He understands Slav’s fears in this, because he’d had the same fears himself, with his Olkari prosthetic. It _had_ felt safe and perfect; he’d been comfortable with it. The Galra attack had proven it wasn’t as safe as he’d thought, though, and the same arm he’d trusted had nearly killed him. Even this new one had made him nervous at first, because despite Ryner’s reassurances that the problems had been fixed, there was always that little doubt in the back of his mind that _maybe things aren’t okay._ He’d needed to see it and experience it himself to really be comfortable with it again.   
  
And Slav…well, Slav’s far more prone to nervousness and anxiety than Shiro or Ryou. If it was bad for Ryou, it’s got to be a hundred times worse for Slav.   
  
But Ryou managed to get past that doubt, mostly, and he’s hoping the same thing can at least help Slav. So he doesn’t kick Slav out the moment he reaches him. Instead, as he finally reaches the engineer, he says, “How about I help you inspect the new lab?”  
  
Slav actually blinks at him in surprise. “Inspect?”  
  
“We’ll look it over,” Ryou says. “Make sure it meets qualifications. If there’s a new problem, I’ll talk to Ryner and see about getting it fixed. Then it will definitely be safe, and you can do whatever you want in peace. That made me feel better about this." He gestures with his Olkari prosthetic. "It might be helpful for you too. Sound good?”  
  
Slav’s eyes widen at the sight of the Olkari-make prosthetic, and he clearly puts two and two together about the recent virus fairly quickly. “That’s safe?”  
  
“Yes,” Ryou says. “We inspected it very carefully too. Ryner made adjustments I asked for if I wasn’t comfortable with it. Now it’s perfectly safe.”  
  
Slav considers, and eyes him carefully. “What if my lab _isn’t_ safe?”  
  
“Then you come back here, until we work out how to fix it with Ryner,” Ryou says. “And if Shiro doesn’t like that, he can deal with it.”   
  
He can all but feel Shiro glaring at the back of his head at that. But too damn bad for him. This is the only way they will _actually_ get rid of Slav, so Shiro’s just going to have to trust him.  
  
Slav seems to consider this. “It _would_ statistically be safer to inspect with a paladin,” he muses. “If something dangerous does happen there is still a thirty point five percent chance of _both_ of us dying, but there is a sixty point six percent chance of you saving my life. And possibly also yours.”  
  
“Great,” Ryou says, although personally he’s a little offended that his chances of dying saving Slav’s life are apparently that high. He’s not completely incompetent, here. “Then we should go, so we can take a look in daylight hours.”   
  
“Yes,” Slav agrees. “Daytime does provide optimal viewing.” And he swarms forward, slithering up Ryou’s torso to wrap over his shoulders and twist around his back and waist.   
  
Ryou’s expecting it—Slav doesn’t seem to go anywhere without being carried, especially when he’s nervous. He almost overbalances anyway. Shiro had been used to managing Slav’s weight and bracing for it, but apparently that’s a muscle memory that Ryou had forgotten. He nearly tips over, but manages to catch himself in time.   
  
He can practically feel Shiro laughing at him.   
  
Still, he adjusts to it fairly quickly, and glances over at the others, waving goodbye with his Olkari arm. “We’re heading over to the lab. No idea when I’ll be back, so don’t wait for me on dinner or anything."  
  
The entire team looks quietly shocked, none more so than Shiro. But after a moment Hunk at least speaks up. “Uh. Okay. If you’re not back I’ll leave some leftovers in the fridge.”  
  
“Thanks,” Ryou says, and heads out the door.   
  
The lab isn’t all that far from where the Castle of Lions is currently docked, maybe a half-varga walk under normal circumstances. It would actually be a fairly enjoyable walk, if the Olkari city wasn’t still a mess of destruction and rebuilding. By now, most of the dead vines that had overrun the city have been removed, but the roads are still full of crevices where the vines had grown, and many of the buildings are cracked or crumbling.   
  
The Olkari are working hard to fix everything, and they can create an entire building with much more speed than humans could back on Earth. But there’s only so many Olkari with enough skill to work on the repairs, and they can’t be everywhere at once. It will probably still be weeks until the place is fully fixed.  
  
With Slav in tow—or more specifically, literally along for the ride—the journey takes far longer. The city has _far_ more obstacles when broken down like this for Slav, and he doesn’t hesitate to share any single one of them.   
  
“Look out for that water!” Slav hisses, digging his fingers deeply into Ryou’s hair and tugging.   
  
“Ow!” Ryou hisses. “Look, it’s just a spill, not a water main leak or anything.” The Olkari had fixed the water transports from the lake in the forest to here in the city on the first two days, so this was probably just a spill from a hover transport.   
  
“It does’t matter,” Slav hisses. “Because—“  
  
“—there’s a chance of drowning,” Ryou cuts him off. “Yeah. I remember that from last time.”   
  
“ _You_ don’t remember that,” Slav says, once they manage to skirt around the water, and his anxiety drops enough that he can be nitpicky again. “It is an artificial memory from your genetic predecessor.”  
  
“Feels real enough to me,” Ryou says, as he tries to reorient on where they are. Getting around the water meant taking a side alley. He finds the right street and keeps going. “I still remember that _you_ don’t remember if you can swim or not in this reality, either. And that entire break out.”  
  
Slav seems intrigued by this, for some reason. “You believe you remember everything with perfect clarity?”  
  
“Most things,” Ryou says. At least, it had been that way once, before he’d gotten sick. He doesn’t really want to get into the details about what his failsafe illness had managed to remove or weaken in his brain, though. There are some memories, both from with the paladins and of Shiro’s life before Kerberos, that are gone forever, or they feel so distant it’s like hearing a story about someone else rather than experiencing it personally. But others still feel like they’re _his,_ and sometimes he can’t tell the difference without context. It’s a fifty-fifty shot on what category it will fall into, honestly.   
  
“Fascinating,” Slav says. “The genetic details are already exceptionally reproduced, other than the inconsistency in the hair coloration, and a slighter musculature—“  
  
“—That’s not my fault,” Ryou protests, “that was the failsafe, it was right before that—“  
  
“—but the probability of replicating artificial memory with no decay over time and no inconsistency is approximately three point four five percent,” Slav continues, ignoring him. “As a clone you are otherwise fantastic, other than the single genetic inconsistency that makes you wrong.”   
  
“Uh…” Ryou honestly has no idea what to say to that. He’s reasonably sure this is as close to a compliment as Slav is likely to get, but it’s hard to see it that way. Especially when he had absolutely zero control over any of it, much less the part that makes him ‘wrong.’   
  
He finally settles on, “Thanks? I…guess? You know I don’t—“  
  
 _“Stop!”_ Slav interrupts. Ryou immediately freezes, glancing around for danger, but Slav says, “Don’t step on those cracks!”  
  
Ryou groans, and glances down at the street. There are indeed several large cracks running across the road, from where one of the massive Galra-controlled plants had burst through the surface. The Olkari must not have had a chance to smooth out this area yet.   
  
“I can step over it,” Ryou offers. They aren’t very large cracks, not like the wide-open panels that had been on Beta Traz.   
  
Based on the way Slav quivers on his shoulder, this isn’t a suggestion that takes. Ryou is fairly certain Slav wants to bolt, just like he did last time, but they’re all but surrounded by the wreckage of the attack, and there are cracks everywhere. He stays put on Ryou’s shoulders, but hisses, “That’s not enough! There is still a threat of space-time temporal fissures from the cracks! Aren’t you worried about your mother?”  
  
“I don’t think I have one?” Ryou says. He’s not sure Shiro’s mother counts, since she doesn’t even know he exists. “I’m fairly certain I was born in a test tube.”  
  
Slav takes a deep breath to answer, but then pauses, for once seeming just as stumped by that as Ryou is. “Perhaps your creator would qualify instead?” he offers, after a moment.  
  
Ryou shudders at the thought. There’s a million nightmares wrapped into one. “If that’s the case, I’m stepping on every crack from here to the lab and back,” he says. Maybe he’ll get lucky and ruin the lives of Haggar and every single one of her science lab toadies.   
  
_“No!”_ Slav all but shrieks, puzzle forgotten. His fingers dig deeply into Ryou’s hair again and pull. “Don’t do _that!”_   
  
“Ow, ow, _ow!”_ Ryou winces. “Okay, _okay,_ no cracks. I’ll find another way around. Geez.”   
  
Navigating Olkari while avoiding all manner of cracks is not easy. By the time they actually make it to the lab, what should have been a half-varga trip has taken more than two, due to the number of alternate routes they’d had to take, when cracks ended up crossing the entire road and couldn’t simply be walked around. By then, Ryou’s shoulders are starting to hurt, Slav feels way heavier than he had when they stared, and he’s seriously beginning to regret agreeing to this fiasco. He’s got more patience than Shiro for this, but even he has _limits._   
  
But at last they make it—and to Ryou’s intense relief, Ryner and two of her assistants are waiting by the door. “Shiro called ahead,” she says, “and explained that we might be needed for building assistance?”  
  
Thank goodness for Shiro. He’s been obnoxious as hell for the past spicolian movement a half, but at least he’d had the foresight to plan ahead. Ryou’s almost willing to forgive him for being a pain in the ass for the past week. “That would be appreciated,” Ryou says. “We’ll be inspecting the place and might need some adjustments made.”  
  
Slav eyes the lab with trepidation. “It won’t be _safe,”_ he says anxiously.  
  
“Well, then we’ve got three Olkari out here to dig us out if something goes wrong, but it’s not going to,” Ryou says. “So let’s go take a look. Ryner, do you want to explain some of the improved features?” It had helped his own nervousness about his new Olkari arm a lot, to know how Ryner, Pidge and Matt had improved it so it wouldn’t hurt him again. It might help Slav, too.  
  
Ryner looks like she’d enjoy doing anything but that, but is practiced enough at diplomacy to say, “I would be happy to.”   
  
They tour the lab, Slav still doing most of his touring from Ryou’s shoulders. Ryou spends most of the time being directed around from here to there like some sort of mount, to his immense irritation—he can definitely feel even his patience wearing thin, now. But fortunately he doesn’t have to deal with the brunt of the questions. Most of those are directed at Ryner.   
  
Ryou feels sorry for her.  
  
“The initial breach during the attack came from here—this wall,” Ryner explains. “One of the control vines managed to penetrate the metal and create access for the rest. We adjusted the alloy of the metal to make it stronger and upgraded the thickness of the wall by three decaflats to increase the structural integrity.”  
  
“Only thee decaflats? That’s much too thin!” Slav yelps. “There is still over a sixty point seven two three percent chance of a breach in the future, and if that happens the chances that I die are over ninety percent! And the alloy adjustments aren’t enough!”  
  
“I assure you,” Ryner says, “It should be safe—“  
  
“It won’t—“  
  
“Did you test it?” Ryou interrupts. “The strength of this alloy. Smash plants against it, or something?” Knowing Ryner, Matt and Pidge had actively tried to hack his current prosthetic and failed had been a huge factor in him being ready to accept it at all.  
  
Ryner blinks, but then nods. “Of course we did. Several vinespeakers directed an intentional attack with some of the collected vines at our test alloys. They were unsuccessful.”   
  
“So the alloy is fine,” Ryou says, giving Slav a pointed look. “Sounds like it had a one hundred percent success rate at repelling dangers.”  
  
Slav frets on his shoulder. “But only _three decaflats,”_ he almost whines. “Six would be safer, even with a one hundred percent success ratio on the alloy. Chances of death decrease to only thirteen percent.”  
  
“Is six doable?” Ryou asks, glancing back to Ryner.   
  
Ryner’s expression is mildly exasperated, but she nods to her two assistants. “They will attend to it immediately.”  
  
“There,” Ryou says. “Everyone’s happy.” He hopes, anyway.  
  
It goes on like that for vargas. Slav complains about new security measures, upgrades to technological systems to repel the Galra viruses, the placement of furniture or new lab equipment, even color choices and patterns. Ryou does his best to find a happy medium that’s manageable for Ryner and her assistants and still reduces Slav’s anxieties, often translating Slav’s eccentricities for the Olkari. His own experiences with his Olkari prosthetic helps at least a little, since he at least _sort_ of understands where Slav’s fears come from, even if Slav’s complaints are a little…extreme. He’s thankful for so much diplomacy training now; it’s taking every scrap of skill he has to keep everyone from hitting boiling point.   
  
Including himself. Three vargas in, Ryou can feel the first tell-tale twitches at his left eye, a hold-over from Shiro even now and a sure-fire sign that he’s stretched to the limit. Even _with_ his sympathy for Slav’s plight, and his own more natural inclination to give him a chance, he’s still practicing breathing exercises and doing his best to keep Shiro’s mantra in mind. _Patience yields focus._ Though in this case, perhaps _patience yields not murdering the genius engineer_ would be more accurate.  
  
But at last, at _last,_ Slav finally seems to grind to a halt on complaints, and tentatively slithers down off of Ryou’s shoulder. Ryou rolls his shoulders in relief; they were both starting to get stiff.   
  
“These are all new upgraded systems?” he asks curiously, touching all of the buttons on the many computer banks.   
  
“The most recent and up to date possible,” Ryner confirms.  
  
“And all new equipment,” Slav says, now striding through the dozens of machines that Ryou can’t even begin to give name to.  
  
“Yes,” Ryner confirms. “Along with three new ones that you had requested just prior to the attack. They are there for your inspection.” She points.   
  
Slav crawls all over them, checking screens and pressing buttons. “They are very clean,” he says. “Very efficient. They will do.”  
  
“Then everything is okay?” Ryou asks, cautiously. _Please, let this be done already._ “You feel better? No chance of death?”  
  
“There is always a chance of death,” Slav says with a disapproving sniff, even as he inspects another piece of equipment. “Death is an inevitable conclusion to living, one hundred percent of the time, and in some realities it happens more immediately than others.”   
  
“Alright,” Ryou says, through grit teeth, “but what are the odds in _this_ reality?”  
  
Slav considers. “Acceptable,” he says finally. “Only a three percent chance that a freak accident will happen ending in a horrific deadly fireball. Only a two point six three percent chance that drowning will happen due to a flood diverted from incorrect pipe structures. Only a one point five percent chance that—“  
  
“We get it,” Ryou cuts him off, before he can list every conceivable possibility of death. “Low odds. Good.”  
  
“If everything is attended to, then my assistants and I will take our leave,” Ryner says. Olkari expressions can be hard to read sometimes, but there’s no doubt she’s relieved to get out of there. “We have many more duties to attend to throughout the city.”  
  
“No problem, Ryner,” Ryou agrees. _Run while you can._ “Thanks for the help on such short notice. I realize my brother didn’t give you a lot of time.”   
  
Slav’s head swings around at that, and he narrows his eyes. For a moment, Ryou’s afraid he’ll insist on more changes, but then he realizes Slav’s reacting to the word ‘brother.’ Which isn’t actually true, of course, and Slav certainly knows it.  
  
 _Please don’t blow my cover,_ Ryou silently begs.  
  
But, miracle of miracles, Slav actually doesn’t say anything, and Ryner excuses herself after reassuring Ryou the short notice wasn’t a problem at all.   
  
“You are not a sibling,” Slav complains, from right at Ryou’s feet, the moment the Olkari are out the door.   
  
Ryou nearly jumps a foot in the air, and only a lot of training keeps him from actually reacting by putting his fist straight into Slav’s face. He’d forgotten how _fast_ Slav could move when he wanted to, and how quietly.  
  
“No,” Ryou agrees, once his heart has a chance to recover, “but it has to be our public cover story, because I’m pretty sure I’d get run out of town if people knew I was a Galra-made spy clone. So thank you for not saying anything even if it’s factually inaccurate, or whatever.”  
  
Slav gives him a look that Ryou swears is offended and irritated at the same time. “I am perfectly capable of identifying and keeping a secret. I worked for the Blade of Marmora for years, you know.”  
  
And…well, that’s actually a fair point. Shiro had even told him he’d gone to Slav for help specifically because he’d already known Shiro didn’t have a brother, and because he knew he could keep a secret. The warden at Beta Traz had been forced to torture him for information because he wouldn’t give it freely, after all.   
  
Slav might be a character of many, _many_ eccentricities, but he does have a few good qualities, Ryou supposes.  
  
Which reminds him of the _other_ reason he’d agreed to this little outing in the first place, and the reason he’d bothered to give Slav a chance to begin with. “On that topic, Slav, since you _are_ aware of what I am, thanks for saving me.”  
  
Slav blinks at him.  
  
“For these,” Ryou clarifies, removing the medicine travel case he always keeps his pocket, just in case. He snaps it open to show the pale blue pills of Slav’s design inside. “I’d be dead without them. You’re the reason I even had a chance to be here today.”  
  
“Hmph. They are hardly perfect. You’re still _wrong_ ,” Slav grumbles, crossing all of his arms. He actually looks displeased as he stares at the little pills in the case, like they’re some kind of insult to his intelligence. Or maybe a mark of failing.  
  
Ryou snaps the case shut with a little more force than necessary. “Yeah, well,” he says, trying to force his voice to be a little lighter, “I’ll take wrong and still alive over dead of any kind.”   
  
“I suppose it is still a better probability,” Slav concedes. Then he tilts his head curiously, and says, “Your temperament is much better than your genetic predecessor.”   
  
“Uh. What?”  
  
Slav tucks his hands neatly into his little pouches again as he says, “By my calculations, in a reality where your genetic predecessor accompanied me instead, he would have raised his voice approximately sixteen times by now. You have not done so at all yet.”  
  
 _Yet_. Huh. Maybe Slav was more self-aware of his own effects on other people than anyone had realized, because Ryou’s felt awful close to the line for some time now. Still…  
  
“Yeah, well,” he finally says out loud, “I’ve gone in a different direction than him. A least a little bit.” Still not really enough—that was hard—but he’d been trying.   
  
_“Fascinating,”_ Slav says, standing up a little straighter. “You are a sample of the effects of environmental changes and choices on an organism that affect the creation of multiple versions in multiple realities— _in this singular reality.”_ He leans uncomfortably close, staring Ryou right in the eye. “I think I would like to study this.”  
  
“No,” Ryou vetoes, very firmly, pushing Slav out to arm’s length. “Besides, you’d need to get near both of us at once.”  
  
Slav seems uneasy at the thought. “Perhaps just interviews?”   
  
“We’ll see,” Ryou says. “Shiro would have to agree too or it’d be a moot point.” _And he probably won’t, which means I’m safe, too,_ he thinks to himself.   
  
But Slav seems satisfied enough with that, at least for the moment. And he has an entire lab to play around in to keep him distracted. Maybe he’ll forget.   
  
“If you’re all set, then I’m going to head back to the Castle of Lions,” Ryou says. “Are you fine here?”  
  
Slav only waves a hand dismissively at him as he turns to head back into the collection of machinery. “This will suffice. You may leave.”   
  
Ryou rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stick around for a ‘thank you.’ He’s not sure Slav even knows the words. Instead he makes good on his escape before Slav can pull him back over a piece of equipment slightly out of place, or a minuscule crack he hadn’t spotted the first time.  
  
Getting back to the Castle is easy, with no out-of-the-way detours for crack-filled streets and puddles. He’s back in half a varga, although it’s way after dark on Olkarion, and wearily lets himself in. Dinner’s long over, judging by the emptiness of the dining hall, so Ryou makes his way to the kitchen for Hunk’s promised leftovers.  
  
 _Wolf down food, go to bed,_ Ryou decides. Working with Slav is more exhausting than a full day’s training.   
  
The kitchen’s not empty when he reaches it; Shiro’s waiting for him, still with most of his troop movement notes hovering holographically over the counter. He raises an eyebrow when Ryou stumbles in. “You look dead on your feet.”  
  
“I think I’d rather fight another bouldernoose,” Ryou grumbles, as he digs out the fully made plate in the fridge and sticks it into the Altean equivalent of a microwave. “Thanks for sending Ryner, by the way,” he adds, after a moment.  
  
“I figured you were going to need the help,” Shiro says. “Guess your theory didn’t pan out.”  
  
“Theory?”  
  
“That you had a different angle that’d make it easier,” Shiro says. His smile is knowing as he says, “Not so easy when you’re on deck, is it?”  
  
Ryou snags his plate and sets it down on the counter across from Shiro, hungrily shoveling several unidentified vegetables into his mouth and swallowing before he deigns to give an answer. “As a matter of fact, it worked perfectly,” he finally answers, once the rumbling in his stomach quiets a little. “Did you know I have a better temperament than you?”  
  
Shiro blinks. “What?”  
  
“Statistically you’d have yelled at him at least sixteen times,” Ryou says, smirking a little. “I didn’t once.”  
  
“I don’t believe you.”  
  
“You can call Ryner and ask, if you want,” Ryou says, grinning, as he snaps up another mouthful of leftovers.   
  
“That’s not possible. We have the _same brain,”_ Shiro insists.  
  
“Mine’s different now. According to Slav it’s a perfect example of how the same person can be different in other realities just because of a few changes. He wants to interview us on the differences.” Ryou smirks. “I have officially mastered _patience yields focus_ better than you.”  
  
Shiro grumbles, tapping a few holographic buttons to put away his notes. “And here I was going to be nice and listen to you complain after. Now you can just deal with it all yourself.”   
  
Ryou snorts.  
  
“You’re also his official babysitter from now on, since you handle it so much better.”  
  
“What? No!” Ryou nearly chokes on his next mouthful in an effort to spit out his objections.  
  
Shiro grins. “Ah. Not _that_ easy then.”  
  
“You can’t do that!”  
  
“I’m the leader. I can do whatever I want.”  
  
“That’s a _blatant_ abuse of power and you know it. I’ve been in your head!”  
  
“Being a leader means making hard choices sometimes,” Shiro says sagely.   
  
“I’ll mutiny,” Ryou mutters. “You know I’d be good at it. It’s what I was made for.”  
  
“Dark,” Shiro says. “But I wasn’t supposed to be around for that part. You might have trouble with it now.”  
  
Ryou grumbles, and focuses on his food instead.  
  
“Seriously, though,” Shiro says eventually, “You good? Slav asks…well, a lot of uncomfortable questions sometimes. You know it has a way of getting in your head.”  
  
Ryou sighs. “A few here and there. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m good.”   
  
“Alright,” Shiro says, picking up the holodisc with his work. “Then I’ll give you some space. I know I’ve been getting on your case too for the past movement.” He looks sheepish. “Sorry about that.”  
  
 _“Don’t_ put me on Slav babysitting duty and maybe I’ll forgive you,” Ryou says.   
  
“I’ll think about it,” Shiro says, as he heads out the door. “Night, Ryou.”  
  
Ryou shakes his head, but it’s more fond exasperation than anything. He finishes off his dinner, and wearily heads for his room and a well-deserved rest.


End file.
